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Bir çeviri sorunu bildirin
| Windows [-][口][×]|
| ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄  ̄|
| Windows has detected that you are really gay.
| Is it true?
| ______ ______ _____ |
| |Yes | |Yes | |Yes | |
|  ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄  ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄  ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ |
 ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄
└📁Mave
└📁Skill
└⚠️ This folder is empty
When my little sister was a child in the 1960s, we never said to her that she was mentally handicapped; no one in our family would ever have considered doing so. One day, though, when she was about 10, she received a visit from a social worker, as she did occasionally, perhaps because my mother was receiving money from the council, and this person left my sister in tears. “She says I’m mentally handicapped,” said my sister, sobbing.
“What does that mean?” I asked, hoping the social worker had not said anything even more upsetting. “She says it means I can never get married and have children.”